


It don't take a word, not a single word

by dragonesdepapel



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fourth of July, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 20:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10170731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonesdepapel/pseuds/dragonesdepapel
Summary: He should have kissed him at graduation, raced all the way back to find Bittle before his shuttle was off. He should have kissed him on those cold mornings at Faber. He should have kissed him after holding the door open for him at Annie's. He should have spent his entire senior year kissing Bittle, and maybe even the year before that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the part where I say that it's been a year since I've really written anything, and that posting in a new fandom that's filled to the brim with amazing writers probably wasn't the best way to ease my nerves back into it.
> 
> Title from the song "Kiss the girl" because at some point I thought of Shitty singing it to Jack and well

There's something bothering him. An annoying noise at the back of his mind that tells him that he forgot something important. But Jack is not a stranger to the feeling, and he knows it's usually his anxiety playing tricks on him.   

So when his father asks if he's ready to leave Jack says yes. He gets in the car and soon they are taking off.  

Only then Jack allows himself to think about it. He takes a deep breath, goes through a mental list of everyone he wanted to see today. He reassures himself that he said goodbye to all of them. The feeling is still there after he's done, but now Jack is ready to dismiss it. 

"Everything ok, hon?" asks his mother. 

"Yeah, I just... I feel like I haven't really said goodbye to everyone." 

"It's a bit late to go back, but we could try if you want."  

"No, it's ok. It's just a feeling, it'll go away" he says, because he knows it's the truth.  

He said goodbye to Shitty, there's still a damp spot on his robes that proves it. He spent five minutes trying to follow Ransom and Holster through an elaborated handshake. He bumped fists with Lardo before hugging her. He got another hug from Bitty, who fiddled with his tie before letting go. 

Maybe that's it. He didn't want Bittle to leave so soon. But he had a flight to catch and it was not like Jack could stay there holding him forever, right? Although it does sound appealing, now that he thinks about it. Holding Bittle, playing hockey with Bittle, spending time with Bittle, kissing Bittle. Wait.  

Shit.  

 

* * *

 

There aren't many things that keep him from buying a plane ticket and flying out to Georgia that same night, but there are enough. Showing up without invitation is pretty rude, and he knows Bittle's family values manners like they value baking. It wouldn't help that he wouldn't even have a reason to give Bittle's parents as to why he was there. It's not like telling them that he had suddenly realized that he wanted to kiss their son is an option. Also, he can't discern if the gesture would come off as incredibly romantic or incredibly melodramatic. 

So it's better if he waits, really.  

But there are things that Jack _can_ do. He can text Bitty wishing him a safe flight, so he does. He can send him goodnight texts and good morning texts too, even if he knows they are going to bed and waking up at different hours. He thinks he's doing ok though, if he's interpreting the emojis Bittle keeps sending him correctly.  

Soon they are texting every day, and it doesn't take long before Bittle ropes Jack into downloading Skype so they can talk more comfortably. Well, it was more like Bittle was surprised he didn't already know how to use it ( _I know you are allergic to technology Jack, but your parents live in another_ country. _I don't think_ _my_ _mo_ _ther_ _would stand even a month without seeing my face in_ some _way.)_ and Jack said he could be persuaded into learning. (He conveniently forgets to mention that he has other means to stay in touch with his parents.) 

Unsurprisingly, he makes a mess of it. It's really not his fault that some of the settings seem to be designed to be as counterintuitive as possible. Jack half considers driving all the way to Boston to get Shitty to set it up for him. But then he wouldn't need to call Bits for help, and he wouldn't get to listen to his voice as he chirps him, or his laugh as Jack chirps back. It takes them a while because _computers are hard, ok_ _Bittle_ _?_ , but they manage to figure it out. 

 

* * *

 

Bittle bakes while talking to him. Jack pretends to be working on unpacking and organizing all of his stuff. It's been the same routine for a couple of days now. If he's being honest, Jack gets distracted with watching Bittle cook most of the time. So yeah, he's not making much progress. Bittle chirps him for procrastinating every time he catches him. 

Jack is already swallowing down all the words he should have said at graduation and didn't, so he doesn't feel like holding back from the familiar comfort of watching Bittle dance around a kitchen.   

Mrs. Bittle is there often too. Sometimes cooking alongside Bittle. Sometimes stopping by the kitchen to get something she needs. She always pauses to talk to Jack, ask about his day, ask about his parents.   

One day she's already in the kitchen when Jack accepts the call. She's standing next to Bittle and although she's wearing her usual kind expression, there's an unusual air of formality that makes Jack nervous.  

"Jack, honey, I was just talking to Dicky about the Fourth of July. Do you have anything planned for that weekend?"  

"No, I don't" he answers casually, like his heart hasn't started pounding in his chest. Like Bittle's mother might not be about to offer Jack everything he has wanted since graduation.  

"Oh, if that's the case, how would you like it if you spent it here with us?"  

Jack's actually _very_ proud of himself for letting her finish the question before agreeing. It doesn't scape him the big smile that graces Bittle's lips when he does. 

Or that he still looks unconvinced.

"Are you sure it's ok, Jack? I know how busy you are, and it's a long trip for just one weekend. You don't even celebrate the holiday."  

In the end Bittle needs to be reassured several times that really, it's ok, he really wants to go, _really_ _Bittle_ _,_ _just_ _because you celebrate the wrong holiday doesn't mean I wouldn't like spending the day in Georgia_ _._  

They text all the time, they skype at least twice a week, and Jack doesn't understand how Bittle can not know that he would drop everything in a seconds notice if it meant being in the same room as him. But then again, Jack himself hadn't realized it until it was too late, so he shouldn't be one to judge. It's ok, Jack will show him soon enough. 

 

* * *

 

There's entirely too much people at the airport, so Jack can't kiss Bittle when he picks him up there. He also doesn't kiss him when they get inside Bittle's old truck, the angle would be too awkward. Bittle's parents are there when they arrive at their house, so Jack doesn't kiss him then either. 

He is sure he will get to kiss Bittle when he accompanies him to settle his stuff on the bedroom, but the door is still open, and Jack hesitates. Before he knows it he's already sitting at the dinner table and the moment is gone.   

As expected, the food is delicious. Jack didn't realize exactly how much Bittle spoiled them until he had been alone in his apartment with an empty frigde.

Mrs. Bittle asks a lot of questions about Providence. Mr. Bittle asks a lot of questions about his new team. Bittle tries to keep the conversation from focusing too much on Jack. He wants to tell him that it's ok, he doesn't mind talking to his parents. But there's no way he can do it now without it sounding awkward. Jack has never been good at being subtle.  

But he's not complaining either, because this way he gets enjoy the food better and watch Bittle as leads the conversation. It's not that he behaves different here exactly, but Jack has never seen him tell a story with another person as seamlessly as he does with his mother. Or snort at the private jokes he seems to have with his father.  

By the time Mrs. Bittle sends them to bed, Bittle has caught Jack smiling fondly at him too many times. His first response was to roll his eyes, but as dinner progressed his cheeks had been turning redder and redder every time he noticed it. Jack wonders what would happen if he hooked their ankles together under the table like he wishes he could do. But he can't, not with Bittle's parents sitting right there and Bittle himself having no idea it could happen, so he doesn't.

They are supposed to be sleeping. Jack should be desperate for some real rest after his flight. Bittle woke up early to help with the preparations for the next day, and there's still a lot of work waiting for him next morning. 

They stay up talking for most of the night anyway.  

And here's the thing: Jack could kiss him at any point now. They are alone in Bittle's room. The door is closed, his parents are already asleep anyway. They are sitting so close that all Jack would have to do is lean forward a little. He imagines himself doing it a thousand times. And then... he doesn't.  

He should have kissed him at graduation, raced all the way back to find Bittle before his shuttle was off. He should have kissed him on those cold mornings at Faber. He should have kissed him after holding the door open for him at Annie's. He should have spent his entire senior year kissing Bittle, and maybe even the year before that. But he didn't, and now Jack can't do it.  

He's scared, he realizes. It's not that he didn't stop to think this through before. But it's hard not to doubt himself when Bittle has spent most of today making sure there's enough space between them, and rushing to avert his eyes when he catches Jack looking at him.  

The logical part of him knows that those things should reassure him that Bittle wants this too. Why would he try so hard to act like there's nothing between them if he didn't wish there was more? 

But that part is not as loud as the one that tells him that Bittle is warning Jack to keep his distance. The part that tells him that it wouldn't be ok to make Bittle uncomfortable on his own house. The part that tells him that he has mistaken Bittle's characteristic warmth for something that's not there.  

The answer is obvious, he knows. All he has to do is talk to Bittle about this. He'll be kind to him even if he does reject Jack. After all, Bittle doesn't know how to be anything else. But Jack also knows he's not the best at talking, and he's not completely sure if it's actually a better option that just kissing him. It terrifies him that he could ruin this whole thing before it even began because Jack can't use his words. 

Bittle yawns and Jack chirps him until he admits he's tired. They finally turn the lights off, and they go to sleep. Bittle wishes him goodnight and Jack tries his best not to scream into his pillow in frustration. 

He should have kissed him at graduation.   

 

* * *

 

Saturday morning is spent on the kitchen. At first _Suzanne, Jack honey, how many times do I have to_ _repeat_ _it?_ , tries to convince Jack that guests shouldn't be bothered with helping in the kitchen.  

"Why don't you go sit at the table, dear, and let us handle the baking? You can still chat with Dicky from there."  

But Bits vouches for him and he's reluctantly handed a set of measuring cups. 

A bit later Mr. Bittle stops by the doorway, and asks if he can borrow Jack's help with some tables. It's Suzanne who ushers him away. Jack can't pretend to already know how to read Mr. Bittle's expressions, but he thinks he can see some surprise there. They keep him carefully away from any lattices though, but Jack is not complaining.  

When Suzanne gives him a knife and directs him to some apples, he knows he has win her over.  

 

* * *

 

Jack is fully prepared to spend the whole afternoon plastered to Bittle's side. This conviction doesn't change when the Bittles start trickling into the yard. They are somehow even louder than Jack imagined and there are lot more than he thought there would be.  

But it's ok. He's following Bitty, he's listening to him talk to his family. It's nice. Bittle's older cousins spend a great amount of time trying to get Bittle to play football with them. He bats them away with a smile and a chirp every time. After being rejected for the fourth time, one of them sighs and makes the same offer to Jack. 

Bittle tries to encourage him to play but Jack is no fool, he recognizes the mischievous glint in his eye. That only makes him more eager to accept. He's an NHL athlete, he can handle a friendly, family game. It's clear that Bittle disagrees, and Jack feels the need to prove him wrong. But he would much rather stay near Bittle, so he pushes his competitiveness down, offers a smile of his own and says no. 

They do play with his little cousins. (It's brutal.)

How can such tiny kids contain so much aggressiveness in them? How can Bittle keep up with them? Why doesn't his fear of checking apply here? Don't get him wrong, Jack is glad it doesn't. He just thinks it doesn't make sense. They are fast, and small, and it _hurts._ But there is no foul play, Bits makes sure of that.

Jack watches as he teaches them how to throw, the right way to tackle someone, and some strategy. He will make a great captain one day. It's not the first time Jack has thought about it. He can't wait to see what the Samwell team can do under his leadership. 

At some point Bittle is called away and Jack isn't quick enough to follow. He's almost glad for a second, since he heard something about settling an argument that was taking place at the kitchen. Then almost every person in the backyard turns towards him and he has to reassess that statement. He thought no-one was interested in him, being an outsider. As it turns out they were just waiting for the right moment to grill him with questions.  

He gets quizzed on his knowledge of football, gets asked about life at Samwell. He talks a bit about hockey, and a lot about Bittle. It's a big family, but it's obvious that they care a lot about each other, and that means they care a lot about Bittle. 

Jack is in the middle of telling them about the Great Stress Baking of December when Bittle finds him again. He tries to get him to stop but he's laughing, and his aunts and uncles are laughing too, so Jack thinks he's doing a great job at telling this story.  

He's not feeling so confident when he gets introduced to Bittle's grandmother. Which is ridiculous, of course. He's just Bittle's friend, it's not like he's asking for her blessing or anything. (Except that Jack kid of is hoping to get her blessing. A bit farfetched since not even Bittle knows about Jack's feelings for him but whatever, Jack has always aimed a bit too high.) 

Suzanne chooses that moment to mention that Jack helped with the pies and Jack could be wrong, but that seems to be enough to get her approval. He has never been more grateful for taking a class in his whole life. He makes a mental note to send professor Atley a bouquet of flowers once this is all over. 

Overall, he thinks he's doing great. He's sure the kids like him, he believes the adults might do too. Jack  _thinks_ he's been around Bittle long enough to recognize their particular brand of dislike disguised as passive aggressive southern hospitality. He wouldn't bet his life on it though. At least no-one has physically fought him over his football opinions, so he counts it as a win. 

But there is a faint sensation of discomfort sitting at the bottom of his stomach. He can't shake it, no matter what he does. He knows it must be even worse for Bittle. Still, there's nothing to be done about it, so he tries to focus on other things. 

(He tries not to think about how much he'd love to spend every Fourth of July like this either. It's hard. It's also quite ridiculous. But never mind the fact that it's only been two months since graduation, or that he hasn't even kissed Bittle yet. Jack already knows he wants this to be something permanent.) 

 

* * *

 

If he's being honest, it takes him a while to notice it. But surely it's understandable. He was too caught up with watching the moon and the landscape outside (and the pensive face Bittle makes while he's driving).

"Um, Bittle? I don't think we are following your family anymore."  

Bittle turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow. It's doesn't last more than two seconds, but it's enough to let Jack know that he has been more distracted than he thought. Jack feels heat pooling on his cheeks and is glad Bittle won't take his eyes off the road.   

"It's going to be packed there, and I think you've been around enough people today. I asked mom if we could go somewhere else to watch the fireworks. Don't worry, I'll get us a much better spot anyway."  

Jack wants to say that he enjoyed spending the afternoon with his family. That he wouldn't have minded sitting next to them. That he hopes this is only the first of many holidays he gets to spend with them.  

But he's afraid that if he tries, it'll sound like he doesn't want to be spending time alone with Bittle instead. There's nothing more far away from the truth, so he stays silent.  

Bittle drives the truck out of the road, parks it close to a lonely tree.  

Jack has a chirp ready for when Bittle has to climb up the back (and a half baked plan to stand a little closer than necessary when he offers to give him a hand). Instead, he watches as Bittle expertedly gets on the first try. He looks down at Jack with a smug smile that tells him that he had at partial idea of where Jack's mind was.  

He wastes no time in following and sitting next to him, shoulders close.  

Bittle informs him that they still got a bit of time before the fireworks start and it hits Jack that this is it. He's running out of time. He's running out of excuses. Who knows if he'll get an opportunity like this before he has to get on his plane tomorrow. There's no way he is leaving Madison without at least _trying._  

He turns to look at Bittle to find that he is already looking at him. And even _Jack_ knows that this is a cliché. Bittle's hair illuminated by the moonlight, sitting way too close despite the warm night, their hands resting near each other but not quite touching, getting caught up looking at each other's eyes for far too long. 

All is missing is for one of them to be brave and-  

Move back until their legs aren't touching anymore and their hands are nowhere near close, apparently. Because that's what Bittle does, when he turns to press his back against the truck and stare straight ahead.  

"Would you please stop making it so hard to know if you want to kiss me?"  

And that's not... that's not what Jack wanted to say. At all. He doesn't even get a sense of satisfaction at being right about his ability to screw this up by talking because that was _bad_. Is it too dramatic to say it's the worst thing Jack has ever said? Because at this moment it certainly feels like it. 

He opens up his mouth to apologize without quite knowing exactly _how_ he's going to do it. Luckily Bits' hand on his wrist stops him before he can make an even bigger fool of himself.  

"Yes. I mean, yes, I want to kiss you. Although I guess it also means yes, it'll stop making it so difficult. Just...yes."  

And Jack doesn't know if he's laughing because of how happy he feels, or because of how ridiculous they both are but he doesn't really care anyway. He brings his hand to Bits' face and leans in slowly. Just in case Bittle changes his mind. 

He doesn’t. 

**Author's Note:**

> Btw Coach is totally on a year long ban from the kitchen during holiday baking. He dropped a pie while taking it out of the oven in Easter.


End file.
